Once on Lundy Island, Detective Sergeant Laura Buchan and her paranormal investigator friend Lawrence Crane are joined by Sally Thistlewood, another old friend, exploring the terrain, quietly looking for clues regarding the mysterious and sudden death of Sally’s husband Charles. They begin to sense an evil presence.

“As soon as they left the castle, Laura was glad she had wrapped up warm. Although the wind had dropped an icy chill lingered. Thick dark cloud covered the skies, and great rolling mists moved like ghosts through the cottages of Lundy village. They walked for a while in silence, trudging along the path past the Marisco Tavern and shop, past holiday homes and farm buildings, and out into open country.

Sally led Laura and Crane along a path that passed the Old Lighthouse, the airfield and Ackland’s Moor to the left. They reached the Quarter Wall shortly afterwards and passed through a gate into the fields beyond. Seagulls cawed amid the sounds of waves crashing against cliffs in the distance, and as they continued the mist gradually cleared, leaving only occasional patches of coastline gripped by thick fingers of fog.

Shivering, Laura once again sensed the same oppressive presence she had felt the previous day at the Old Lighthouse. As they continued their journey north along the paths and cliff tops, that presence seemed to get stronger. She glanced at Crane, who nodded silently, confirming that he felt the same.

To distract herself from the feeling of being watched by an invisible, malevolent entity, Laura made light conversation with Sally; mostly reminiscing about their past together, their time at school, University, old friends, places they had visited, parties they had been to… anything to distract from the present. There was a feeling of desperation in the exchanges, particularly on Sally’s part. No doubt she felt trapped both by her grief and her belief that the death of Charles was merely the start of something that was only going to get worse. Talking about the frivolous, care-free past wasn’t merely friends recalling good times. It was a dedicated, concerted effort at deflecting the oppression of the present.

But in spite of such efforts, the intangible feeling of malice inherent in the atmosphere only increased the further they walked… Lundy was a bleak but beautiful place, yet something had taken possession of it.